


Cats vs Dogs

by Ladycat



Series: Married [10]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Schmoop, always a girl Rodney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's never really understood cats. He doesn't need to - he's a dog guy, always owning largish creatures with big, floppy ears, that would pant in his face and bark excitedly when he got their leash. There's been a succession of them over the years, and John gets dogs. He knows what to do when they're hurt, or sad, or even angry at him. It's written right there in their big, open doggy faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats vs Dogs

John's never really understood cats. He doesn't need to - he's a dog guy, always owning largish creatures with big, floppy ears, that would pant in his face and bark excitedly when he got their leash. There's been a succession of them over the years, and John _gets_ dogs. He knows what to do when they're hurt, or sad, or even angry at him. It's written right there in their big, open doggy faces.

Cats are different. They hiss. They disappear at odd hours, shining luminous eyes on them when he asks where they were and if they need something from him. Cats flick their tails and assume you can read the paragraphs conveyed therein, annoyed and disdainful when you don't. Or just annoyed and disdainful for the hell of it. Cats are _complicated_ and John has no idea how to handle them.

Which is why when his wife sits stiffly in her chair, back to him and refusing to turn around, he thinks about getting a cats-for-dummies book. There's got to be one.

"Mer."

"I'm busy," she answers in clipped, professional tones.

He frowns. A professional cadence means she's locked herself down completely, relying on the rote behaviors she's forced herself to learn over the years. Learn _badly_ , but still. Learned. 

She's hiding herself from him. _Him._

"Did something happen?"

"No, nothing."

_"So, John, what did you do in school today?"_

_"Nothing."_

His mother had spent years being furious at those responses. Now John understands why. "I made dinner..."

"I'm not hungry."

That makes him stare outright. Mer is _always_ hungry. She has no shame about eating, or what she's eating, or when. It's something John loves about her: a woman who isn't afraid of herself, who isn't defined by others rules.

"Okay, what the hell is going on? What is _wrong_."

Mer has no tail to flick, but a bit of her hair falls over her shoulder. "It's nothing, okay? Nothing."

But John can see a slight softening of her shoulders, rounding into their more normal slump, and he may be a big, dumb, dog-person but some things are universal.

He gets her to the sofa before she can do more than screech once in protest, tucking her into his lap, head under his chin, so he can run his hand up and down her back, again and again, feeling her spine and the band of her bra before feathering his fingers over the small of her back. She arches slightly, sighing, and safely above her head, John smiles.

Cats are a lot nicer to pet than dogs, he's learned.


End file.
